Faults {Louis Tomlinson Fanfic}

Angels Adoptions.

Okay.. brace yourself! So sorry I took so long to update.. It's been crazy busy the last week or so. Hope you like the chapterrrrrrrr! Don't forget to let me know what is going through your brain in the comments below! Your VOTES mean everything!!

***OOOOHHHH AND BY THE WAY THERE IS AN IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE BOTTOM!!***

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I slowly rub my thumb across a little boy's cheek, his lifeless eyes stare up at the ceiling. He sits solemnly in his new baby blue crib. He flinches slightly, and I pout my lips. It's so hard to look at him without tears coming to your eyes, he keeps his arms curled up in front of him. The small boy is stick thin.

"So how old is he?" I ask the tall volunteer lady helping me around, who stands beside me.

"He's six years young. He's been here since he was about three. They found the poor boy on the streets with his older brother, who has recently passed away. The two were so dehydrated and starving, they had serious problems with malnutrition. Ryan here, has some brain damage from when he was a small babe. We suspect that he was beaten as a small child before he was found." I bit my lip.

Shuffling my feet quietly, I continue on to the crib beside the boy. A small girl, in a light pink crib, lays with her eyes wide, staring around the room until her eyes catch me. She tilts her head to the side, her dark hair slightly shifting to the right. Her arms stretch out for me to hold. I lean myself over the crib, and carefully pick up her fragile body, and bring her into my arms. She licks her lips, top and bottom.

"Hi, pretty girl." The edges of her lips curl into a smile.

"This is Ava. She is 10 years old."

My mouth drops open. Her body is equivalent to a two year old.

The small girl wraps her bony arms around my neck, and ties her legs around my waist. I swiftly rub the tips of my fingers across her small back. Ava snuggles her head into the crook of my neck.

"Oh, and she loves to cuddle." The lady laughs, and I giggle as well.

I smile, even though warm tears run down my face.

"Do you want me to take her?" Rachel, the tour lady, asks.

"No, I'm fine, really." I sniffle slightly.

We walk through the room, passing by cribs and beds filled with young children, with disabilities that cause them to not be able to do common things that most of us take for granted.

"What happened to his leg?" I ask Rachel, peering over little Ava's shoulder.

The small boy lays in his crib, scratching at the sheet, his leg is wrapped up in a large splint. His blonde hair pops up in all directions.

"He has a disease that he was born with, and it causes his bones to be ever so fragile. His left leg has been broken almost 3 times."

He looks up at me with fierce green eyes, and stares into my fresh blue orbs. I bite my lip, and lean an arm down to rub his shoulder. His hollow cheeks give me the chills.

Just then, he does something that breaks my heart. After seeing so many children in such conditions, I am so emotionally fragile.

The small boy reaches up and grabs my hand to my outstretched arm. He blinks a few times as he watches me begin to sob. I let go of his small hand and lay my head on Ava's shoulder to bawl.

"Rachel, please take her." I croak.

The tour lady manages to pry screaming Ava off me. Her brown eyes are glassy, her face is beat red, and she's screaming bloody murder.